#▓▓ inquiry. ☽

[rukia-kuchiki-divided]

@cc-ichigo-kurosaki " what are you working on ? "

Unprompted Ask | Always Accepting @cc-ichigo-kurosaki

"None of your business!"

"You're going to ruin your birthday surprise, baka!"

Even if she had no idea what that surprise would be... yet.

[withsorrowandregret-archive]

❝  so  ,    sue me  .    i didn’t want you to die  .   ❞    /    @tranquil-inquiry​ ♡ 'ed

[muses-from-the-continent]

~ Tag dump!

[formulawolff]

i. girls like u - t.w.

pairing: reserve female!driver x toto wolff

word count: 2.1k

warnings: morally gray individuals, slow burn, sexual content (intercourse), allusions to sexual content, cursing, marijuana use, references to alcohol use, lots of power imbalance, questionable boss x employee dynamics, light toxicity

a/n: ok this is my semi-return to tumblr after a writing hiatus. this fic is loosely based off of you by the 1975 and several blackbear songs. sorry if this shit is ass. i promise there is more world-building to come in the next chapters (it's been a while since i've wrote somethin' longer than 500 words) lemme know if y'all like it! i missed y'all! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:

“aren’t you tired?”

fingertips brush along your back, light and gentle. stirring, you blink, stifling a yawn and you nuzzle into the warmth. 

it’s inviting, your lids drooping the moment the tip of your nose brushes along heated skin. a plush comforter shrouds your body, limbs entwined. watery rays of light peek in through drawn blinds, promising of dawn. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:

“you wore me out. of course i’m tired.”

there’s a rumble in his chest, adam’s apple bobbing as he chuckles, “no, that’s not what i meant.”

“then what did you mean?” bringing your chin upward, your gaze locks with his. 

he flinches slightly at the harshness of your inquiry, a crimson hue tinging his cheeks, “i-i don’t really know. i-i guess i meant to ask if you were tired of watching everyone compete from the paddock. don’t you want to race as well?”

don’t you want to race as well? 

of course i do. every single fucking grand prix i pray that i’ll finally get a chance to be behind the wheel. 

to prove to everyone that i’m just as worthy of a competitor as lewis or george. that i am capable of finishing a race. 

i pray that i finally get a chance to prove that i’m a champion. 

inhaling sharply, your head falls, avoiding any sort of eye contact, “i mean, yeah. of course i want to race. i want to compete just as much as you do, max.”

“i’m sorry if–”

“it’s fine,” you murmur, finding your body clinging to him, head nestling into his chest underneath the covers, “can we just go back to sleep or–”

he exhales, lips connecting with your temple. they trail along your brow bone, placing gentle kisses all the way down to your cheeks, “you know we can’t. it’s qualifying today.”

“right.” your jaw clenches, “there’s nothing more important than qualifying.”

“hey,” fingers grasp your chin, “are you okay?”

“yup,” you nod, “i’m great.”

concern lingers, swimming in his icy blue depths. his tongue darts out, swiping along his lower lip, “you and i both know that’s a lie.”

shrugging, your lips pucker, “maybe i’m just not looking forward to watching everyone chase their dreams while i’m forced to sit on the sidelines.”

in that moment, you sense his demeanor shift. max softens, his muscles relaxing as a hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone, “you know, we could change that.”

your heart thuds, pounding as blood roars in your ears, “how?”

he leans in, his mouth nearly millimeters from yours, “i could pull some strings.”

“and how would you accomplish that?”

max’s voice is low as he continues, his tone laced with a dominance that you rarely heard beyond radios, interviews, or press conferences. it was quite the contrast than the max you were used to. it had you absolutely reeling, scrambling to maintain your composure as a shiver ran down your spine.  

“i could speak with christian, put in a good word for you. there’s a lot of change that’s going to come within these next few months. checo hasn’t resigned quite yet. the contract isn’t finalized there’s still time to get you in at red bull.”

“y-you would do that for me?”

the dutch driver nods, a little too fervently. 

“i would do anything for you.”

there was a sincerity in his words, almost as if it was a promise. a sure one, at that. a promise brimmed with a passion that you could only describe as one emotion. 

love.

you had him right where you wanted him. 

max verstappen, three-time world champion of formula one, was right at your fingertips. the dutch assassin was poised and eager, ready to fire as soon as he was given the word. 

all you had to do was say yes. 

that’s all you had to do. utter those nine words. 

i want to be with you at red bull. i want to be in that second seat.

yet, there was one thing holding you back.

well, more so a culmination of things. 

one, there was that ever-present gnawing, nagging feeling. the guilt was slowly eating you alive, threatening to spill your precious secret at any given moment. two, there was that fear of the unknown. what would happen if you managed to pull this off? would you truly be happy at red bull or were you just trying to worm your way to the top? would that shiny trophy really be worth it if you weren’t fulfilled? 

and well most importantly, the third aspect of it all. would you be able to keep up the facade that you were just friends with max verstappen? it was only a matter of time before your relationship with the dutch driver would come from the shadows and into the light.

it was so much easier to keep things under wraps when no one paid attention to you. 

“max,” you begin, “maybe we should–”

the shrill ring of his phone pierces through the air. leaning over, he plucks the device off the nightstand, grimacing as his eyes scan the contact. 

“it’s christian.”

“what time is it?” you press, “surely it’s not that la–”

“baby, it’s well past eight.”

“shit.” you shoot up, peeling the comforter off, “why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

max follows in suit, shoving a leg through his pants, “cause we were in the middle of an important conversation. i wasn’t going to just interrupt you to tell you i had to leave. that wouldn’t have been fair to you!”

“right,” you scoff, throwing on a hoodie, “you don’t have to act like i’m more important than racing. you live, breathe, eat, and sleep formula one. and i understand tha–”

lips collide with yours, the kiss nearly sucking the breath out of your lungs. it’s fiery, blazing with hunger as your knees buckle. max pulls away, panting ever so slightly. 

“don’t you ever fucking say that. you hear me?”

“yes.”

shaking his head, he makes his way across the room, smoothing out a wrinkle in his jersey before slipping on a shoe, “you mean the world to me. we can talk more about this later, but i really have to go. christian is blowing up my phone asking where i am. fuck. i really hope that no one sees me. do you have a hoodie or something i can borrow?”

crossing over to your makeshift closet, you file through the hangers, pulling a garment off. tossing the sweatshirt to max, you can’t help but giggle at his haphazard state. 

his blonde locks are all over, clearly ruffled from a long night. his clothes are wrinkly, bunched up from being thrown to the floor. the only saving grace is his red bull cap, along with the hoodie you just provided. 

however, the moment he sees the embroidered logo, he rolls his eyes. 

“really?”

“just make sure you take it off before you see christian. and put on some deodorant when you get the chance. you stink,” wrinkling your nose, you blow the dutch driver a kiss as he waves you off. 

yet, he catches the airborne smooch, returning the gesture, “i’ll text you later baby. i lo– i have to really go now. have a good day, all right?”

“i’ll try my best,” you reply, buttoning a pair of jeans, “you know i won’t be doing much.”

“goodbye love!” his voice carries down the hall as he exits your motorhome, the sound of the door echoing throughout the space. 

well, so much for making progress.

there’s a buzz in your pocket, stealing your focus for just a second.

fishing your phone out, your brow furrows. no one really contacted you in the mornings. well, unless it was an emergency or an urgent matter. 

it was a text message, from a sender you were well acquainted with.

it was none other than sir lewis hamilton. eight-time world champion. one of the greatest athletes of all time. 

who just happened to be your fellow teammate. well, fellow teammate and best friend.

who knew that formula one contracts came with a package deal like that?

where art thou, sweet girl? i fear that our team principal is going absolutely mad because you are running very behind. pls hurry before he starts going in on me for being on my phone during a team briefing. 

your thumbs glide across the screen, crafting a careful response.

sorryyyyyy. running late per usual. perks of being in the reserve, right? i’ll be there in like five minutes. 

the reply was instant, phone vibrating once more.

hurry up. toto is pissed. 

gritting your teeth, you shove your phone back into your pocket. luckily, you had packed your go-bag for race weekends the night before. well, before you got preoccupied with max. slipping on a heavier coat, you push through your bedroom door, making your way down the hall. 

exiting your motorhome, you spin on your heel, throwing up the hood as you navigate through the endless maze of the paddock. 

you would think after six months you would know your way around by now.

members of the crew and hospitality chirp greetings and good mornings, earning a mumble here and there in response. graciously, you accept a wellness shot from one of the hosting staff, in hopes that it would perk you up just a tad. 

eventually, you nudge open the door of the briefing room, keeping your head ducked as you settle into your designated seat, lewis spotting you. from across the space, he shoots you a thumbs up, paired with a precious grin, dimples and all. 

the second you slide on your headphones, a voice floods your ears.

it’s brassy and gruff, thick with annoyance, brimmed with that accent you were all too familiar with. 

“good morning, hase. i’m so glad that you could take the time out of your busy schedule and join us this morning.”

it was none other than toto wolff, team principal of mercedes amg petronas.

your boss. 

looking up, you notice him to your far right, perched in his seat. his gaze is lasered in on you, almost piercing. with his brows furrowed and lips wound tightly shut, you couldn’t quite distinguish the emotion plastered across his features.

was it anger? disappointment? sheer and utter regret?

“good morning, toto,” you grumble, heat flooding your cheeks as snickers bubble up from all around.

“as i was saying,” toto clears his throat, “i think that we need a new approach for the remainder of the weekend. clearly george isn’t feeling up to par, so we need to explore our options.”

“i could drive,” george russell, your other teammate coughs, “i want to ra–”

“i don’t think pushing you to your limit is an intelligent idea,” toto cuts in. the words are firm, the team principal continuing, “let’s face it, with ferrari and mclaren in the mix this season, we are desperate for points. we need to make a strong move this weekend or else we are going to fall behind. even more so than we already are.”

the voices trail off as your mind wanders, your focus dissipating by the second. typically, you never paid too much attention to the briefings anyway. after all, they did not pertain to you. they usually were directed at the engineers, strategists, george, and lewis. 

not like you needed to really pay attention too closely. you were just kind of there. a body in the room.

the backup plan. 

fuck, did that absolutely torture you. so much potential wasted. all of your blood, sweat, and tears poured into nearly two decades of racing just to end up fiddling with a loose thread of your hoodie as a room full of men bickered about who would fill a fucking seat. 

some fall from grace this was. the 2023 formula two champion reduced to a reserve driver simply because no other team would take her. 

after all, you couldn’t really complain too much. this was the life you chose. you were the one who ultimately made the choice to sign to mercedes for a two-year contract. 

after all, it was your dream to drive for mercedes.

“here’s what we should do,” toto’s voice seeps into your headphones once more, snapping you out of your dazed state, “we should utilize our reserve driver. what is the point of having a reserve driver and not utilizing her?”

“toto,” bono’s voice chimes in, “i’m not sure if–”

“bono,” the fierceness in lewis’ tone takes you aback, “this is what’s best for the team. as a whole. we cannot give it our all if we don't have healthy drivers.”

“george,” toto turns to the british driver, “what do you think? do you have any input?”

“i don’t disagree,” george shrugs, the words hoarse, “i want to be healthy for saudi arabia.”

“then it’s settled,” the team principal shifts towards you, his lips curling into a smug smirk as his arms fold across his chest.

“i think that it’s time for our little hase here to really show us what she is capable of.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆:

taglist: @sweetjellyfishland @ts1m1kas @bxuzi @racecardilfs

lemme know if you would like to be tagged for future chapters! <3

[ichimakesart]

Commission for @vanilla-phantoms

Thank you for commissioning me ☽𖤓☾

~☆◇Prints◇☆~▪︎~☆◇Commissions◇☆~▪︎~☆◇Kofi◇☆~▪︎~☆◇For inquiries: ichimakes@gmail.com◇☆~

[fantasticsandwich]

yandere influencer x fem! reader (pt 2)

Don't you know you're the apple of his eye?

Your fingertips were raw from constant nipping, the consequence of a nervous habit that resurfaced whenever your textbooks lay sprawled open like the wings of a fallen bird. Molecular biology had become your latest adversary in the quiet battleground of your small, well-lit room. Your eyes darted across diagrams and text while your brain fought to corral the stubborn facts into memory. They spun around, lines at a time, before coiling into helix lattices. You stared at the wall, watching as the facts floated across your vision like cell clusters inside the vitreous.

“Adenine pairs with thymine,” you muttered under your breath. You chewed on what was left of your nail, wincing slightly at the sting, but it was a pain less sharp than the prospect of failure. The glasses perched on the bridge of your nose slipped down, and you pushed them back up with a knuckle, not daring to smear the pristine lens with sweat-glossed fingers.

The sudden buzz of your phone shattered the stillness. It vibrated against the wooden surface of your desk insistently, the noise disproportionately loud in the silence. Cillian was the first person you thought of, and with him in mind, a wave of anxiety rolled through your chest. If it was him, calling you out for one of his impromptu gatherings, how could you say no without igniting his subtle ire?

Sighing, you ignored it. If he said anything, you would pretend to have been asleep.

“Focus,” you scolded yourself, yet your hand betrayed you, reaching for the device. The screen lit up, casting a glow on your tense features as you swiped to read the message.

‘Hey Y/N, can we meet? - Rian.’

It wasn't Cillian. Relief mingled with curiosity, loosening the tight knot of worry in your stomach. But why would Rian want to meet so suddenly? A simple inquiry, yet it stirred a flutter in your heart that felt oddly like hope.

Your fingers hovered over the reply button, pulse quickening at the possibility of an impromptu meet-up. A meet-up meant stepping away from the books and into a moment that was unplanned, untailored, something you hardly allotted time to.

"Sure, where?" you typed back, thumbs almost slipping on the screen in your haste. You pressed send before the seeds of doubt could take root, before you could convince yourself to decline for the sake of study or appeasement.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

You found him waiting on O’Connell. The bridge was pulsing with Dublin's lifeblood, tourists snapping photos, street performers drawing crowds, locals weaving through it all with purposeful strides.

You saw him, but you were distracted, mesmerized by the crowd indifferently swimming around, swallowing you whole. You wished you could've delved into all of their psyches; mentally or otherwise, it was impossible to know what was wrong with someone. Some people were saints. Some were the worst people alive. Some were average. Some knew what they were and longed to appear otherwise. You were delighted by humanity’s infinite potential. Whether good or bad, humans held an even capacity for both. Someday, you would have to save the life of someone who didn’t deserve to live. You wondered what kind of person you’d become then, when your morals were upheld by a code.

Being in a crowd offered a wonderful sense of anonymity. You weren't anyone. You didn’t belong anywhere, but not one member of the numberless throng knew that. Momentarily, you were granted the chance to become anyone. Not an aspiring doctor. Not another student obsessed with owning nice things. All you wanted to be was at you friend’s side, enjoying the evening.

You stumbled through, eventually reaching Rian. His gaze fluttered to the pavement, then he moved to reach for his wallet. You snuck over, moving until you stood directly behind him. Hands creeping up to his shoulders, you pressed down, stifling a laugh when he jumped.

“Hey!”

“Shit, Y/N,” he hissed, fumbling with his wallet.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

At that moment, his stomach growled.

Laughing, you patted him on the back. He permitted your hold to linger, your arm resting across his shoulders as you embarked into the throng, mindlessly stepping. Their stroll led them to a small bar tucked into an alley. A flickering sign with streaks of balding neon designates its name, but you paid it no mind and entered. Inside, the atmosphere was cozy, dimly lit with amber bulbs that cast a comforting glow over the wooden tables.

Passing a line of arcade games, you choose a spot near the front, on barstools that overlooked the street. Still, you were attracted to the machine’s blaring lights like a moth. You wanted a plush toy from the claw machine and knew that you, for some reason or another—due to a lack of skill or luck—would not receive it. As the eldest child, you were accustomed to sowing the seeds of desire yet and never reaping. But it was for the better; you were greedy and would demand more.

“What are you looking at?”

Sharply inhaling, you spun around to face him. Rian peered at you from behind his phone screen, then set it aside, face up.

“Nothing,” you said. “Those machines are really bright. It’s distracting.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said, squinting. It really was blinding.

Settling at their table, Rian sank onto a stool, defeated. It creaked beneath his weight, and he winced.

“I’ll get us drinks,” said you, already rising.

His arm shot out in protest, wrapping around yoru wrist. “No, let me.”

With a huff, you tugged yourself free. “You invited me out, so it’s my treat.” Rian could not afford to squander his hard-earned cash on you.

“Isn’t it usually the other way?”

“Who cares? You’re getting free food. Don’t question my benevolence.”

Your bank account’s sum would dwindle, but someday, you’d make it back tenfold and treat Rian to something better than a shitty pub without even bothering to look at the price. This thought was your bleeding wallet’s only solace.

Reaching the bar, you ordered two pints. He swiftly delivered them from the tap. Cheering, you sipped at the froth spilling over the edge. You set a hefty glass before Rian and wiped your mouth on your shoulder.

“Sorry for the sudden call,” he abruptly said, his hands finding the security of his pockets as he spoke, “I just felt like seeing a friend today, and you’re as friendly as the lot gets.”

“No problem. I’m glad for the distraction. It feels like ages since we’ve last seen each other.”

“Yeah, really. Life gets busy. School, work, family… Between everything, It’s impossible to find a moment just to breathe.”

Not to mention how he juggled two part-time jobs, but Rian wasn’t one to complain.

Humming along, you traced the rim of your glass. You were vaguely aware that you should’ve gotten another to supplement living off of your mother’s income, but after last semester, you were reconsidering your ability to work and maintain your grades. At the very least, you’d work in the summer, and since your mother refused to take rent, would find other ways to help around the house. Maybe you should’ve already started looking for a co-op to boost your application for med school.

“It really is,” you said, shaking your head. “I thought so, too. I haven’t seen you or Connor in forever. I hate how, even though we attend the same university, it feels like we’re living in different worlds.”

Secondary school was unfounded hell, all seven layers of Dante’s inferno at once. While you didn’t recall those days fondly, you longed for its simplicity. There was a practiced ease to each day, comfort in only having to devote your time to your studies. Even now, you only had to focus on hitting the books and attending class, but because the responsibility to learn had fallen on you, you found your resolve wavering. Only the prospect of becoming filthy rich one day spurred your ambitions.

And grades too, you supposed. Most people claimed grades weren’t important, but those very same figures wouldn’t schedule appointments with a doctor who struggled through undergrad coursework. While it wouldn’t be evident upon entering an office, anyone could tell a doctor’s educational prowess through their conduct.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed, adjusting your glasses with a habitual motion. Your arm grazed the table on the way to your lap, stirring the contents of your cups. Your gaze was drawn to the rippling, amber liquid.

“Have you been keeping well with your studies?” Rian inquired.

“Trying to,” you said. You chuckled, a hollow, biting sound. “Can’t understand shit, but molecular biology isn't going to learn itself.”

“Speaking of misunderstandings,” Rian ventured cautiously, his fingers playing with the condensation on his glass. “Are you... I mean, I could be wrong, but from what I hear around campus, is there something going on between you and Cillian?”

The question struck you like a wave, causing you to inhale sharply. Your mouthful of beer went down the wrong pipe, and you choked, sputtering as you tried to regain your composure. Your eyes watered as you reached for a napkin, dabbing at your lips.

“Why would you ask that?” you managed to cough out. Bringing a hand up, you hit your chest, dislodging the liquid from your lungs.

Rian's gaze was steady, though not unkind, as he took a slow sip of his beer, buying a moment before answering. He set the glass down with a gentle thud, the sound muffled by the chatter and music surrounding them.

“I guess I’ve noticed how he's around you. It’s like… like he's always trying to keep close to you, you know?”

You studied Rian’s expression, noting the earnest furrow in his brow.

“No, we’re not anything. Only friends, and Cillian is just… complicated,” you began, voice trailing off as you searched for the right words. “But speaking of complicated,” you ventured with a cautious smile, “how are things with your girlfriend? I know you’re long-distance, but you haven’t talked about her in a while.”

Rian’s expression softened, but his eyes darted away for a moment before meeting yours again. He fiddled with the edge of a coaster, his fingers tracing the damp outline left by his beer glass.

“Ah, well, we haven’t spoken much lately,” he admitted, a note of shyness betraying his usual warmth. “It’s kind of on a pause, I guess. But it’s alright. Life's been busy. Busy, or maybe I’m not good at juggling.”

Sometimes, you thought Eve was a grand ploy invented by his madness. A girlfriend who lived in Malaysia and only met him through an exchange program last year? You didn’t recall meeting such a person, but supposedly, they struck up conversation because Rian was learning Indonesian, and they kept in contact to continue as language partners. It didn’t make sense to you, but what did you know? You were studying biomedical science, after all. You knew all the heart’s functions except for one.

“Really?” You responded with good-natured curiosity, though your mind was elsewhere. A buzz from under the table jolted you out of your reverie. You glanced down discreetly, the familiar ding of a text notification causing your heart to skip a beat. It was Cillian. Your fingertips brushed against the cold metal.

“Y/N?” Realizing your distraction, Rian’s brows knitted together.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, giving him an apologetic grin. “Just lost in thought for a second there.”

Another buzz, more insistent this time, sent a ripple of anxiety through you. You could almost hear Cillian’s voice in your head, his voice with each chime. Hey, hey, hey. Answer me. Why aren’t you picking up the phone? Your grip on the cup tightened.

Rian took a sip of his beer, his eyes not leaving your face. In the brief silence that followed, you were crushed beneath the weight of his unspoken questions, the air thickening as your phone continued like a beehive, its screen emitting a faint glow from beneath the cover of the table. You angled the device slightly, squinting to read the string of texts as you typed out a hurried response. Your thumb fumbled over the autocorrect suggestions, fingers flying too fast for your mind.

“Did I call you out at a bad time?” Rian leaned in, genuinely perplexed, the soft light casting shadows across his face. “You seem to be somewhere else.”

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks as you tucked the device away, hoping your smile might mask the sudden rush of guilt. “Ah, no, it's not that,” you managed to say, your voice a pitch higher than usual. “Brother’s home alone and doesn’t know how to cook. I’ll get him some Chinese after. You know how it is.”

Instead of answering, he shrugged and downed the rest of his glass’ contents in a single long gulp. Your heart clenched with gratitude. You offered a nod, a silent thank you, before redirecting the conversation to safer, shallower waters.

Across from you, Rian reached for his glass, the ice within clinking like a subtle chime. He took a slow swig to scoop any dregs into his mouth, chewed on a piece of ice, then set the glass down with measured care. His hand moved through the air as if to dismiss an irritating gnat.

“Summer brings all the pests,” he said, swatting at the air. “You shouldn’t bait flies. They’ve got germs and they’ll make you sick if they linger.”

Your mouth was dry. “I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hugging yourself, you watched the night drift past, viewing the crowd, pinpointing people to imagine the lives of. You spied yourself in the reflection, your image superimposed across the glass. Your lens reflected the light, making your eyes round discs.

What were you doing here? What were your goals with Rian?

He was always a joy to hang out with, but like all good things, he was received in moderation. He took just enough courses to be considered a full-time student and whenever he wasn’t committed to his studies, spent his precious free time trapped at a part-time job. His pay covered his tuition. His grandparents from the countryside sent him a meager allowance for food. Whenever they went out, he eyed the prices. He’d offer to pay at dinner, but no one ever permitted him to snag the check, knowing better than to take advantage of his needlessly giving nature. Without parents, he struggled more than a regular student ought to, so you tried to take care of him, the boy who was like the younger brother you’d always wanted. You weren’t doing a very good job, but Rian was nothing if not determined to squander his loyalty on someone like you.

You had sparse conversation, commenting on things between bites.  While not particularly close with Rian, he was easy to read and transparent. You soon developed a good groove in the conversation, permitting it to falter when you finally lost interest. Otherwise, you ordered chips to eat in silence and neatly stacked the trays when finished. While you wiped the table down with a napkin, Rian discarded your trash in a rubbish bin.

Checking the time, you realized y ouhad been out for just over an hour. You could’ve extended the plans. You still had a small balance set aside for discretionary spending, but the week was yet to end, and you feared that Cillian might impose an abrupt photography session, which meant visiting a new resturaunt, which would be followed by a trip to his favorite cafe.

If you’d gone out with him instead of Rian tonight, you could’ve expected to extend the excursion by an hour and for your account to be wiped. He knew all the trendy, fashionable stores, and in the company of someone like him, you felt compelled to also look your best. You could do little about your physical appearance, so through fashion, it was.

On the way out, you passed by that claw machine again. You glanced longingly at the contents. Although the quality was questionable, the little duck perched atop the lot was adorable. You paused to stare at your reflection in the mirror. Your face looked puffy and beneath the harsh lights, the bags beneath your eyes visible. The breeze had died and the night air was humid, so baby hairs stuck to your forehead. Retrieving a clip from your purse, you stalled. You scooped the strands between your thumb and forefinger, attaching the clip. You laughed at yourself. Your bangs stuck up like a palm tree.

“So that’s what you were looking at,” said Rian, slotting himself at your side. His reflection joined yours. “Want me to win it for you?”

“No. It’s all luck, no skill.”

“That’s because you’re not skilled.”

“You know these things are practically scams, right? The claws are always too weak to grab anything.”

Rian’s lips curved into a smile, his features illuminated by the neon colors dancing across his face. “Maybe,” he conceded, tucking a stray lock of wavy hair behind his ear. “But it’s still worth a shot. What if I win you something?”

“Then I’ll be genuinely impressed.”

You winced when he inserted a bill. He maneuvered the claw around, eyeing an ugly thing. You stood at the side of the machine, eyeing his trajectory. The machine gave two turns with each payment. During the first, Rian managed to snag the creature. Seized by the head, it precariously wobbled before slipping out and falling back into place. The second was just as dismal.

Rian clicked his tongue. You begged him to stop, but he fed the machine bill after bill. He shrieked with every failed attempt, yet on on the eighth and final turn, the claw held fast and secured the creature.  Your mouth fell open as the prize dangled precariously during its journey toward the drop chute, landing with a dull thud. It was still for a moment before he lifted the plexiglass and snatched it up.

“Yes! Did you see that? I beat the machine!”

Gripping it by the neck, he presented a scraggy bundle of coarse thread and lopsided proportions. You weren’t quite sure what it was meant to be. Similarly, it wasn’t the one you had your eye on earlier. Nevertheless, you profusely thanked his efforts and rewarded him with an awkward embrace.

“Let’s take a picture with your new friend there,” Rian begged. His phone, a device older than most, its screen littered with scratches, was already out of his pocket and in his hands. “I want to show off my skills.”

You grinned. “You’re going to brag about one measly win?”

“It made you smile. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“No. It’s alright. It’s just one picture.”

You hugged the toy close to your chest to muffle the furious pounding of your heart as he snapped the photo. With its head skimming your cheek, you caught a whiff of its cardboard stench and felt a hole beneath one of the arms. The material was coarse against your cheek. You gritted your teeth and grinned. You wouldn’t complain because Rian was overjoyed to provide something for you, so you chewed your tongue.

Instead of the shoddy object, you reveled in the sentiment behind it, knowing your momentary happiness was worth losing out on several lunches because he valued you more than himself.

Backing up, Rian framed the shot with shaky hands. Just as the shutter clicked, someone jostled him from behind. With a grin, he turned the screen toward you, displaying your blurred visage.

“Rian, it’s all hazy,” you protested. The lights in the back were supernovas, streaky lines illuminating your silhouette. Your figure appeared smeared across them like a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged, pocketing his phone without a second glance. “It’s just a picture of us—well, you and the… Whatever the fuck the ugly thing is. I know you’ll love it. You’ve got this way of loving things no one else could.”

You would. You had to, because no one else would offer the care you did.

You could’ve deluded yourself into feeling special, but it was all for show. He was smiles and kindness, yet above all, Rian was desperate to keep others at his side as if they were pieces of art to be displayed. Such was natural for people of his nature; those who were alone and despised the fact would always try to appear otherwise, and at all costs. Rian would toil and squander his precious time and money to please you, because if he didn’t no one else would. He was an indispensable person, eager to assert his value. That was his sense of selfishness.

Knowing all that, would you still plead for the stupid toy again? Of course, and without delay. The harsh truth to the world was that that happiness could only be achieved through vanity. Humans were vain and selfish; no person was inherently selfless. Those that were, were without good reason.

[cvrnelians]

smile like you mean it - chapter four

You knew filing for divorce would be no easy feat. But filing for divorce from Roman Roy?

"No easy feat” might as well have been synonymous with “impossible."

warnings: drug use, alcoholism, miscarriage, Roman and the rest of the Roy family being awful.

chapters 1-3 // chapter five

music

☽ Chapter Four ☽

“Are you mad at me?”

It was a genuine inquiry. You could tell by his tone of voice—whiny, timid, uncertain. He sounded like a kid that just smacked his friend on the playground, not a grown man that just accosted you on a private jet. Karma pays everyone a visit eventually, even the rich and powerful. Today, Roman’s karma came in the form of:

complete and utter terror over the plane landing, and

complete and utter terror over you being done with his shit. 

The image of Roman’s barely restrained panic as the jet plummeted downwards flashed through your mind as you broke into a sprint across the tarmac. That image was the one and only thing keeping you sane at the moment. He looked the most rigid you had ever seen him as you came to an aptly rough landing, back pressed straight up against his seat as he clutched onto the armrests with shaky hands. Although you would never admit it, seeing him like that—after all he had said to you that afternoon—was the first time you smiled the entire flight. 

Your throat was dry, your eyes were red and swollen from crying, and your ears were plugged. Needless to say, you were more than enthused to finally breathe in some fresh air. You lugged your suitcase behind you, its wheels squeaking loudly against the concrete. You were pretty sure you had pulled a muscle in your shoulder after yanking it down from the overhead compartment, but you didn’t really care. Your main priority was getting off that godforsaken plane and away from Roman as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t difficult to decide that you would be sitting next to the driver on this beautiful, windy evening in Herefordshire. There was no way in hell you were trapping yourself with your soon-to-be-former boss in a confined space again. You were already in the process of opening the front passenger’s side door when the driver stepped out; a thin, tall man somewhere in his sixties. 

“Hi!” you practically yelled at him, receiving a bemused look in return.

“Good evening, ma’am. You in a rush?”

“Something like that. Just glad to have my feet back on the ground again.” 

When you looked behind you, you were surprised to see Roman also barrelling full speed ahead towards the car. You found it laughable, considering how much he despised running. He would find any and every excuse to take a break whenever you went on your morning jogs together. “Morning jogs.” Yeah…

They were typically more of a walk/run hybrid, with breaks lasting longer than the time spent exercising. During these breaks, there was almost always food involved. This was one aspect of your job you didn’t hate. Roman really liked breakfast, so you often got free donuts and coffee out of the deal. A meager perk of working for the spawn of Satan, but a perk all the same.

You had managed to pull the car door open less than halfway when it was abruptly slammed shut. Roman pressed his hand flat up against the window as he leaned over you. Even while breathing heavily, he still managed to bestow you with you that smug little smirk of his.

You kept it simple.

“Romulus, I've had enough. Move.” 

Roman raised his eyebrows. “Romulus, huh? Wow. That really gets me going.”

You glared at him, pulling the door ajar only for him to slam it shut once again. You hated him. You hated him with every fiber of your being.

“Roman, I’m serious. Move.”

“Awwwww, no more Romulus? Why not?”

“Get out of my way and let me open the door.”

”Whaaat?” he asked, his voice rising an octave as he held his arms up defensively. “I’m not sure what you mean.” He had to scramble to close the door when you tried opening it again, bumping into you in the process. You jolted at the sudden movement, stumbling into him. You could hear a loud thud and an even louder “OW!” as he hit the pavement. On any other day, you would immediately check to see that he was okay. Today wasn’t any other day, though. 

Today, you felt like you were going to pop a vein in your forehead if you didn’t immediately remove yourself from his presence. 

“Oh, come on!” he lamented, getting up just as quickly as he went down. He wrapped his arms around your midriff and pulled you backwards in an effort to move towards the backseat. He was so close to you that you were tripping over one other, collapsing onto the concrete. Once. Twice. Three times. At a certain point, you were both thrashing around so much that you weren’t even trying to meet your objectives—yours to go towards the front seat, and his to move you towards the back seat. At this juncture, you were simply trying (and failing) to protect the other from hitting the ground.

“Stop falling!” he yelled. “STOP FALLING!” 

“STOP MAKING ME FALL!”

“JUST GET IN THE CAR!”

“I’M TRYING!”

The driver was making a valiant attempt to physically separate you. It was like trying to get in between two very irate koalas. “Sir…ma’am…you need t—” You could feel the driver’s hand gingerly touch your shoulder when you accidentally slammed into him, sending this poor, innocent bystander plummeting to the ground. Roman’s eyes widened as he finally let you go. 

You managed to find your footing again, standing directly across from him as he stared at you. He reminded you of a housecat that managed to find its way outside and completely froze, not knowing what to do—even after putting himself in this position. You scoffed in disgust. Even if he was caught off guard, he didn’t even lean down to make sure the man was okay. You turned towards the driver, lying on his side with a stunned look on his face. “Are you alright?” you asked, reaching over to try and help him up. “Sir, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

The man simply sighed as he stood up, Roman jumping in at the last second. 

“Yeah, sorry Gramps,” he said flippantly, his voice shaky. “Looks like you got caught in the crossfire.”

“Fucking unbelievable,” you snapped, rushing to wrench open the trunk and throw your suitcase inside. 

Roman’s karma also came in the form of you sitting as far away from him as humanly possible on the car ride to Siobahn’s wedding venue—a castle “belonging to a family friend” where you would all be staying for the next week. No big deal or anything.

Or rather, would’ve been staying for the next week.

It was no longer so difficult to imagine yourself quitting this job. It simply wasn’t worth it anymore. You would figure something out. Even if he ruined your reputation, he had made a lot of enemies during his short time as COO. Surely someone in the industry would hire you, and even if they didn’t, you could get a job in another field entirely. You hadn’t been planning on being an assistant for the rest of your life anyway. Sure, you had wanted to move up in the corporate world. Sure, it was a shame that some entitled manchild was driving you away from what you wanted, but again.

Was it all really worth it?

There was a divider in the car, a tinted window that separated Roman from you and the driver, who you now knew as Doug. Ah, Doug. Although you had only known him for a few minutes, you definitively concluded that he was one of the most understanding human beings on the planet. You supposed you couldn’t be too surprised that he was so forgiving of the situation, granted that he had been working for Caroline for several years. Sadly, he must’ve been used to that level of…whatever the hell that was.

Little did you know, that tinted window worked just like any other window in the vehicle: it could be opened and closed. And open it did, with just the push of a button from the backseat. You let out a groan as the window slowly rolled down, Roman’s anxious face appearing in the rearview mirror. He seemed uncomfortable, like he was sick to his stomach. And then came the winning question.

“Are you mad at me?”

You were quiet for such a long time that he started to ask again.

“Are y—”

“I quit.”

You said the words before they were even fully formed in your brain. You pressed the button to roll the window back up, but he quickly rolled it back down.

“You…um. You quit what, exactly?”

“I quit,” you repeated. “I’m done. It’s over.”

“What are you quitting? Quitting smoking? Quitting your gym membership? Quitting life? Do I need to get you 5150’d, or…?” He was being sarcastic as usual but the discomfort in his voice betrayed him. 

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

“This job, Roman!” you snapped. “I quit. I don’t want to work for you anymore. I never did.”

He was the quiet one this time. You tried clicking the button only for him to roll the window back down again. You wanted to scream. Yet another example of Roman taking advantage of something useful for his own purposes: annoying you.

“You don’t mean that.”

You chuckled bitterly. “You sound so sure of yourself.”

“You’re staying with us for the next week. So what, are you just gonna hang around until it’s time to go? You really think I’m gonna let you do that?”

“Of course not. I’m not putting myself through that misery,” you said flatly, scrolling through your phone. “I’m looking up flights home now. The reception here sucks, so I’ll have to figure it out when we get there.”

“Um, yeah. No.”

You stopped scrolling, your posture stiff. “I’m sorry, what?” you asked, your eyes shifting back to the rearview mirror. He was looking out the window, shaking his head as he scrunched up his face. “Did you just say no?” 

He turned back to meet your eyes in the mirror. There was an air of false calmness to him. He could usually talk himself out of anything, but this clearly caught him off guard. Did he seriously think you would never get tired of putting up with him? On second thought, you supposed he would be surprised by someone asserting themselves, and ultimately withdrawing from him. He was constantly doing terrible things, and his family and everyone around him just boiled it down to “well, that’s just the way he is.” Professional enablers, all of them. Even Kendall at times. “No” wasn’t something he got told a whole lot, unless it was coming from Logan. And given his position of power, you leaving must’ve seemed out of the question to him.  

“We need to…I don’t know! Don’t we need to have a meeting about this first? Like an exit interview, or whatever the fuck? We have to sit down and schedule a little get-together before you do anything drastic. You have to submit a formal resignation.”

“Okay, I’ll just email you one.”

“No, a hard copy.”

“It’s not 1996.”

“Nope, I want a hard copy. It’s the least you can do, you overpaid little brat. And wouldn’t you know? Uh oh, you forgot to bring your printer in your carry-on. Silly you. Looks like you’re gonna have to put your plans on hold.” 

“Roman,” you turned to look at him, the anger evident on your face. “I mean it. I’ll say it as many times as I need to. I quit.”

“Look, I get it. Okay? You’re tired, I’m tired and what I said earlier wasn’t exactly…fair. And stop looking at me like that. I don’t like it.”

You just stared at him. “Roman, you called me an H&M wearing plebeian.”

“No, that’s slander, okay? What you’re doing is illegal. Slander is illegal. I didn’t call you an H&M wearing plebeian. I called you a run of the mill, ladder climbing H&M wearing plebeian. And a coffee gopher.”

“Oh my god. I can’t.” 

You turned away, rolling the back window up. Instead of pressing the button again, Roman stretched his neck so his face rose above it as it closed. “Okay, yeah. I said it, but I didn’t mean the run of the mill part! Seriously, I—”

A few minutes of silence passed before you spoke again, this time to the only other tolerable person in the vehicle.

“Is his mother like this, too?” you asked.

Doug smirked and laughed to himself. “Caroline? Well, she can also be very…persistent.”

For the final time, the window rolled down.

“Hey. You two aren’t talking shit about me up there, are you?”

☽

You couldn't catch a flight until tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

And so, you were stuck in what had once been your designated room. A nice room, a room bigger than your apartment, but you would be lying if you said this wasn't the last place you wanted to be. When you got out of the car, Roman waved you off dismissively before practically running away from you.

"Just sleep on it, 'kay?"

You would not be "sleeping on it." You were leaving tomorrow afternoon, come hell or high water.

In addition to this, all things considered, you weren’t exactly jazzed about Kendall strolling in there at 11:00pm. He walked in casually (after knocking, of course. He may have been a Roy, but he wasn’t a Roman) just as he would when you used to work for him. It had been a while since you had really spoken to Kendall. He would email and text you pretty regularly, however. He liked to “check in.” It was clear that he missed you, and even clearer that he pitied you.

“Hey you!” he called out. “Catch!” He tossed something at you, small and light. To your surprise, you actually managed to catch it.

A sober chip.

“Ninety days,” he said fondly. “I’ve been keeping up with my meetings. I know it’s not a huge deal, but I figured you would be proud.”

He was correct. You were proud. You used to really push him to go to his meetings. Frankly, you were a little afraid he wouldn’t keep up with them after you stopped working for him. He seemed to prefer AA over NA. He never mentioned why. Although alcohol was certainly an issue for him, his main drug of choice was cocaine. You had never thought to ask about it. It seemed too personal. 

“That’s great, Ken!”

Your anxiety about what had been said about you and your former boss seemed to dissipate slightly when he told you the good news. It appeared that a hug was in order, at least from Kendall’s point of view. You stood there awkwardly as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed. 

“Wow, you’re a shitty hugger.”

You laughed nervously, tapping him on the back a few times in what was supposed to be some…platonic form of affection. You peered over his shoulder. The door was wide open. Although you didn’t see anyone—and likely wouldn’t, considering how late at night it was—you didn’t want to risk people seeing this. 

Especially not you know who.

“So,” he said, pulling away and smoothing out his sweater. You felt the urge to roll your eyes. Black cashmere, not one wrinkle in sight. So very Kendall. 

“How have you been?”

☽

Thank you all so much for reading/liking/reblogging/replying 🩵 It means a lot. Short chapter this time (since I uploaded three in one shot last time lol), longer chapter next time. Reader is in a tough spot here 🙃

@pearlstiare

[undiscovered-horizon]

Cinderella - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

SUMMARY: Nikolai is a party person, you're not. But he's also a fool in love, so when you quietly disappear, he wastes no time finding you.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

Nikolai didn’t notice your sudden disappearance right away. He can’t exactly be blamed for that - he wasn’t given a chance to. With the mob of aristocrats and silk stockings flocking to him without mercy or patience, Nikolai’s attention could only take so much. They all wanted to shake the king’s hand, tell him a witty remark or confess how much they were enjoying the evening. He was, however, disillusioned by their pompous words - throughout years he’s learned to quickly catch on to the kernel of truth covered with layers of exaggerated epithets and sophisticated lexicon.

Only when the nobility and magnates spread out through the castle, taking advantage of the rare goods imported just for the ball, did Nikolai feel like he was forgetting something. He looked around the lavish ballroom in search of you, even just a glimpse of your dress or your hair. Alas, he saw none. Logically, he knew you were not in any kind of danger but lovers rarely are reasonable. There’s this strange itchiness in the back of his head that made his fingertips and feet tingle. In a room full of people, he felt uncomfortably lonely without you next to him; the world felt strangely wrong when you were not around.

He walked through the crowded halls asking about you - Grisha, guests, guards, no one seemed to have seen you recently. Despite the audible uneasiness in his voice, he dismissed any questions regarding your assumed well-being. Truthfully, the inquiries were only slightly misguided. You were probably perfectly fine and it was he who was sick with yearning because of your absence. Not sure what to do or where to continue his search, Nikolai simply marched forward, hoping to miraculously bump into you at some point. After all, what kind of miserable night is it going to be for him if he can’t dance even one time with his beloved queen?

Then, a gust of cold wind tugs at his clothes. His eyes look towards the direction of the night breeze only to discover one of the balcony doors being cracked open. Could it be…?

Nikolai approaches the windowed door with hopeful vigour. His heart stops for a moment, only to resume beating at a feverish pace:

As if unbothered by the grand ball, you’re leaning against the guardrail of the balcony, watching the starry sky. Moonlight washes over your silhouette, painting you more of a creature of dreams rather than reality. Cold wind tugs and waves the hem of your lavender gown but you don’t seem to mind it. To Nikolai, you appear almost inhuman like he just stumbled upon a dryad that got too caught up in looking at the moon and forgot to hide from the human gaze. It must be by the Saints’ mercy that he’s the one to not only admire the nymph but hold her heart as his own.

“You come here often, красивая девица?”

Startled, you turn around to look at the unexpected guest. Upon seeing Nikolai’s face, you sigh and let your shoulders relax - you can discard all of your facades around him without ever hearing a word of criticism. Without thinking about it, your lips curve into a smile.

“Only when I need a moment to breathe,” you answer before turning back to look at the sky again.

Nikolai leans on his arm against the guardrail. His watchful gaze studies the side of your face, his thoughts slipping away to gush about your beauty, while he’s trying to keep his focus on the more important matter that is checking up on you. The longer his eyes trail your features, the more he grows convinced that you are, in fact, a dryad and have put some kind of spell on him that has bound his thoughts to you.

“You worried me, love,” he speaks softly, as though he’s afraid his words might further spoil your mood, “disappearing so suddenly.”

With an apologetic look on your face, you meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I just…” You look away for a moment, gathering thoughts. “It all became a little too much: the people, the noise. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Nikolai brings your hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on your wedding ring. “I will always worry for you.” The gold jewellery glistens in the pale, silvery moonlight.

 Part of you still finds it hard to believe that a man of his sort is doting on you. Funnily enough, he’s thinking the same - what unimaginable machinations of the universe blessed him with you taking his name?

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. The noise of people enjoying the evening is distant and muffled like it’s coming from another reality, somewhere far from the microcosm of the balcony. As mentioned before, lovers tend to belong to another species. Nikolai and you are just staring at each other with complete devotion in your eyes, silently exchanging confessions and oaths even death can’t quite break.

The sound of someone walking past the balcony door pulls you back to reality. Although the awakening is not welcome, you find it necessary. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your guests, мой царь? They came from far away to meet their king.”

“Oh, please, they didn’t come here for me. Why else attend a ball if not to admire the queen?”

“That’s your reason for attending.” Nikolai doesn’t find it in himself to lie and deny the accusation. “Most people just want to dance, talk and have a bit of caviar.”

Jokingly, he puts a hand on his chest. “Are you calling me special?”

You only shake your head and bite your lower lip but it’s not enough to stop the wide smile from spreading across your face. “I never said that.”

Nikolai frowns at your denial but the playful glint in his blue eyes rids his expression of all seriousness. “No, I’m pretty sure I just heard you say ‘Nikolai, you’re the most amazing man I have ever met’. Why, thank you. I must agree.”

His half-serious cockiness makes you laugh out loud. If he didn’t look pathetic before, he surely does now: the king of Ravka, staring at you with a soft smile and a dreamy gloss in his eyes. For a moment, he’s not noble in any way, shape or form. Nikolai is just a man - a man who gladly traded deference for love. Your laughter rings in his ears, his yearning mind hoarding the beautiful sound as though it desperately needs it for survival. Even the efforts of the talented orchestra are drowned out by your happiness as there is no other music he wishes to listen to.

Only when you’ve stopped laughing does he continue the conversation, never daring to interrupt something he adores so much: “Are you feeling better, милая?”

“I will soon.”

The orchestra finished one of the more upbeat pieces and in a true show of their expertise, they smoothly transition to a slow, sombre tune. Because of the distance between the balcony and the grand ballroom, the music is muffled as though the artists are performing their song in a nearly-forgotten dream; as if the soft tune belongs to another realm.

“In the meantime,” he says as he offers you his hand, “may I have this dance?”

You only giggle as you put your palm on top of his. Soon, you’re slowly swaying to the distant melody with his arm protectively wrapped around your waist. It’s not an actual ballroom dance, so you feel no embarrassment in comfortably placing your face against his shoulder. Out there, among lords and magnates, maybe this would be considered too casual but on the balcony, it’s the only way one should dance. The time seems to stop as you and Nikolai rock to the rhythm of the sombre tune. 

After what feels like both seconds and hours, you lift your head off his shoulder. Nikolai’s dreamy stare is following your small movements, never missing as much as a twitch of a muscle. If he could, he’d engrave your face on his eyelids, so he doesn’t have to go more than a few seconds without seeing you.

“As much as I appreciate your concern,” you begin quietly, as though raising your voice might burst this little bubble of careless romance, “you don’t have to run after me anytime I need to get away for a moment.”

Nikolai answers in an equally low voice: “I also don’t have to kiss your beautiful face but I just can’t help myself, you know?”

You’re still giggling when you feel his lips against yours. It’s sweet and tender and absolutely consuming. There’s a certain intensity to this kiss - the passion known only to those obsessed with something, whose intrinsic instincts can’t just casually enjoy the object of their desire. His warm lips feel perfectly moulded for yours as he’s silently pouring the contents of his heart for the world to see.

____

красивая девица [kra-see-va-ya de-vi-tza] -> beautiful girl

мой царь [moy tzar] -> my tsar/king

милая [me-la-ya] -> 1. darling, sweetheart 2. cute

[chosos-mascara]

｡˚۰˚☽ K I N K T O B E R D A Y 1 ☽˚۰˚｡

Trying for a Baby - Kyojuro Rengoku

cw: breeding kink

Rengoku tries extra hard tonight following a conversation with Tengen.

minors+ageless dni.

masterlist

"So," Tengen raised the patterned glass before him to his lips, taking a sip. His eyes moved from the table, up to his friend. "How are you and y/n?" He questioned, placing the glass back down after taking the shot. His fellow hashira's smile faded a little, understanding what he'd been implying with the somewhat vague inquiry. Rengoku thought over the past few months the pair of you'd shared, trying to create a family. Each month, your bleed would come, signalling your failure. Since the night of your wedding, you were yet to conceive the child you had both so desperately wanted.

"No baby yet." Your husband had replied, looking to the floor. His usual happy-go-lucky aura had dissipated when mentioning this topic. He was a little worried you wouldn't end up having a family, but tried to set these thoughts aside when with his friend. The two of you had of course spoken of this more than a few times, but Rengoku didn't like to lay concerns on you, as he'd understood your uneasiness had been as deep as his own.  "Do you have any advice?" Kyōjurō asked his friend, hoping perhaps Tengen would have some sort of miracle guidance- the man had three women to please, he'd had to know something of use. "Well, are you fucking her enough?" Tengen probed, though the answer should have been obvious.  "We have plenty of sex." Rengoku lost faith in whatever Tengen could offer, and in the conversation at hand. 

Tengen had noticed as Rengoku sank back in the chair he'd been seated on, usual bright and flamboyant eyes faded with concern.  "What positions are you using?" He quizzed, in attempts to come to a solution. Rengoku had been more focused on the bartender polishing glasses behind the bar, getting ready to close up within the next half hour. The pair of you had moved into the area shortly before your wedding, Uzui and himself sharing drinks in the establishment frequently post-mission, in celebration of their feats. 

"The usual; missionary, doggy, spooning..." He trailed off. Rengoku realised his own patience growing thin with the situation. He wanted to return home and take you now, having another try. Surely, he'd be successful soon. The thought of you baring his children brought him joy, after-all.  "You want your load to stay inside for longer, so I would suggest being on top, and raising her hips. Stop it from coming out for a while - that should higher your chances of fertilization." 

Your husband pictured doing this to you while on his way back home, warm from the sake the pair had drank. Tengen would probably be returning home around the time he was, Rengoku wondered whether the other male had also shared the lustful thoughts he'd been having with his own wives. 

You were in your room drying yourself after bathing when Rengoku had returned, slightly disheveled from his day and the few drinks he'd had. His shirt had already been partially unbuttoned, chest peeking from beneath. His body was beautiful, as you'd always told him, often tracing over the definition in his stomach, and the few scars he'd had. Each time he'd come home with cuts, you'd dress them immediately, always treating him well. Your genuine love and admiration for Kyōjurō was something he'd appreciated, and tried to reciprocate regularly. 

"Did you have a nice time?" You asked, pulling your damp hair back to wrap into a loose ponytail. Your skin was clean, smelling fresh from the soap you'd purchased at the market a few days before. Mitsuri had insisted on taking you shopping, though a lot of it had been for lingerie she'd recommended for use in your endeavors.  "Yes." Rengoku traced the remaining buttons, undoing them slowly. You'd already expected what was to come - it had been your routine for months now. He'd return home, and the pair of you would make your attempts at impregnation. 

Walking to you, Kyōjurō wrapped a finger around the fold in the towel you'd worn over yourself, pulling it undone. The male stared over your body, admiring the woman he'd come to love. The fire in his eyes ignited at the sight of you completely exposed to him, imagining the ways in which he'd take you tonight. One perk to the failure had been the drastic increase in your sex lives, and the openness you'd had to trying new things, or coming home with new toys to use. You'd kept it alive for each other, despite the undertones of why you'd been in this predicament. 

He'd pushed you backward, and you'd managed to make your way backward to rest your head on the pillows before he'd placed his lips over your body, placing kisses on the small of your neck. Rengoku licked and bit at the skin over your collarbones, before pulling back and moving his gaze to your face. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as he'd appeared to be looking over your expression, wondering why he'd spent so much time staring. His hand moved upward, behind your head, pulling the pillows from under you. You looked at him in confusion , stifling a laugh, unaware of his intentions. 

Your questions were answered as he used a hand to lift your hips upward, placing the cushions beneath you.  "Tengen suggested raising your hips." He'd explained to you, cheeks flushing over as he'd realised his actions hadn't been that of normalcy. You'd given him a smile, going along with his sweet attempts for success. 

He'd removed his own clothing, straddling you once more. The two of your mouths moved in sync against one another, being familiar with how the other's habits. You'd been aware of how your partner had enjoyed the way your tongue felt on his, often groaning into the kiss when you'd introduced your own. Tonight, you could taste the alcohol on his mouth, as well as feeling the tipsiness through his body language. His kisses were sloppy, your spit mixing together, a mess forming between you. Rengoku pulled back, a string connecting the two of your lips. His hair was messy, lips tinted and eyelids half closed, in a trance with how good you'd felt pressed against him. 

He placed kisses down your torso, before using the extra salivation he'd had from sharing with you to lube up his own cock. He didn't take much time to push himself into you, the comforting sensation of your walls hugging around him tightly. A soft groan left his lips as he'd pushed in deeper, hands steadying himself by gripping onto your hips. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of his cock stuffing you, his movements of skin against yours causing you to bite a lip, moaning as you felt your core tighten. Your husband found his rhythm, breathing heavily as he used you to milk himself.  "You make m' feel so close, angel." Rengoku groaned, his dick twitching. You attempted to focus on his face, knowing the expression he'd had while pounding into your pussy was always so beautiful.  "I want your cum, 'goku." You'd moaned so sweetly for him, as he'd been bottoming out. His theory was to get as close to your cervix as possible before filling you with all he'd had, hoping that there'd be no option but pregnancy from his attempts. 

"I'm gonna get you pregnant." Rengoku's haze deepened, orgasm within reach. "I want your stomach swollen with my child." Your husband's words shocked you - himself bending forward to attach his lips to your ear. "I'll keep filling you up until nothing more fits inside you." The way he'd spoken to you had been unlike him, but through the daze, the thoughts had pushed himself over the edge, pushing as far into you as he was able to, coating your insides in his seed. "I'm going to get you pregnant over and over, you'll be constantly carrying my children. I won't give you any fucking breaks." 

His high fizzled out, his hands moving from your hips to hold your legs in the air. After removing his cock from your abused walls, he inserted his fingers inside you.  "W-what are you doing?" You'd questioned, still basking in the comments he'd just given.  "Nothing can go to waste, my love." Renogku had been adamant on his seed remaining inside you, until he was ready to fill you once more. 

[thestitchywitchy]

Your Next Glow Up

Hey spooky babes, another PAC for you. It's the second most voted on from my poll. Pretty self explanatory... This one revolves around your next glow up! Hope you guys enjoy and please leave feedback 😘

**Disclaimer**: these readings are for entertainment purposes only. It's your responsibility to take what resonates. I'm only a person so myself and these readings can be infallible. That's life, please don't hold it against me lol

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

To book a reading with me, please DM me or send an email to thestitchywitchy@yahoo.com with your inquiry 💌

My Links 🔮<- please support your witch💕 -> Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Here we go! Shake it out, take a breath, close your eyes, and choose a picture that calls out most to you. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you feel inclined to choose more than one group, please feel free to do so.

Pictures from Pinterest, editing done by me.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

👁 Pile One - Hand ✋

5 of Wands reversed, 2 of Cups, 9 of Cups - Strength

Hi there, pile 1. Welcome to your reading! Your next glow up won’t be a physical glow up necessarily, but will be a time of growth, balance, and personal empowerment. In this time, any previous conflicts or challenges that may have caused stress and anxiety will begin to dissipate for you. You will have a period of peace, harmony, and cooperation with those around you in your life. You may have or are about to overcome some obstacles or disagreements, which you’ve come so far from! Good for you, pile one. Now you can focus on your next steps with more clarity and direction. You may not have been the most emotionally healthy individual in your past, but now I see you being a much more emotionally balanced individual during your next glow up.

Not only will you become more emotionally balanced within yourself, this energy will bleed into your close relationships, especially romantic ones. You’re also really solidifying your close platonic relationships with ease. You may meet someone new or form a deeper connection with your existing partner, as well. The Yin Yang symbol keeps popping into my head, so I see a lot of balance and harmony for you. There’s just all around satisfaction, happiness, and contentment revolving around your next glow up. That makes me so happy for you, pile 1! 😊 You will gain a sense of emotional fulfillment and achievement that you didn’t have prior. You may be enjoying the fruits of your labor and feeling proud of what you have accomplished and that you should! It’s time for you to celebrate you and your success. You are going to be at a point where you can appreciate the simple things in life and find joy in the present moment. I see you guys lounging by a body of water…lake, beach, pool..take whatever resonates, enjoying your new found sense of peace.

You’ve been through so much in the past, pile one. And through it, you’ve come out of it courageous, resilient, and full of inner strength. You know in your heart of hearts that you have the ability to overcome any obstacles that may come your way. You may be facing a challenging situation currently, but you have the power and determination to face it head-on and come out victorious. You have a lot of self-discipline and control that will lead you to your next glow up. Stick to your unwavering strong sense of purpose and it won’t steer you wrong.

Overall, your next glow up will involve overcoming previous challenges, forming strong relationships, finding emotional fulfillment and contentment, and tapping into your inner strength to face any obstacles that may arise. That is so beautiful, pile 1 and you deserve every bit of happiness that comes your way! 💜 hope you enjoyed your reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🛸 Pile Two - Cow 🐄

The Lovers, Justice reversed, The Moon - Knight of Cups

Hello pile 2, thanks for stopping by! Your next glow up will revolve significantly around your romantic life. Get ready for deep and meaningful connections that are heading your way. You may be entering into a new relationship or deepening an existing one. I see that you’ve been working on your health recently. Most likely working out, getting back to the gym, and making healthier eating choices…and it’s really starting to pay off for you! Good job, pile 2. Proud of you 😊 These healthier choices are going to have an outward expression. Significant changes in your body and face. I see a more toned physique and you’re going to be wearing a brighter smile, and people are really going to notice this change in you! For those of you who are currently single, you may be getting a lot of suitors for you to choose from soon. For those of you that are in a relationship, you’re going to be making significant decisions regarding your relationship. A good handful of you may be getting engaged soon. Congratulations! Don’t forget to send me an invite 😉

So I’m picking up on something that’s happening in your current situation that’s holding you back from your glow up that I just want to touch base on real quick…. there may be some imbalance or unfairness in your life that needs to be addressed. You may be struggling to find a sense of justice or balance in your relationships or personal life. It is important to take responsibility for your actions and to make decisions that align with your values. If you’re in a relationship and you may currently be feeling stagnant or have been bickering a lot lately, understand that it takes two to tango and it’s not just your significant other causing all the issues. It’s important to self reflect on what you’re doing as well to cause these arguments and figure out what you actually want from this relationship. It can’t just fall on your partner’s shoulders. If you’re single, it’s time to figure out what you want from your relationships, your values and sense of worth, and what you’re willing to put up with. Regardless of your relationship status, you may be experiencing some confusion or uncertainty in your life, particularly when it comes to your emotions and relationships. It is important to trust your intuition and inner guidance during this time. And even more important to act on them rather than holding back.

Back to your next glow up… I see a lot of creativity, passion, and emotional depth being the main themes to your glow up. You may be feeling inspired and creative, particularly in the realm of love and relationships. You may be inspired with new date ideas, coming up with new ways to express your love romantically and platonically, or even just expressing yourself a lot more clearly and freely. Whether that be through art, self expression, dance, whatever you so desire or are intrigued by… this is beautiful energy, pile 2! This is the perfect time for you to follow your heart and pursue your passions with enthusiasm and conviction. Actually, I just got that for a lot of you, you may be starting a creative class soon? Dance specifically, but I’m also seeing singing classes or an instrument that you always wanted to learn but never got the chance to… painting will also help a lot of you soothe your mind. I see a lot of you going out to those paint and wine nights with your friends which is super cute. I love friend dates! Lol this is randomly specific, but those of you who have wanted to try vinyl art (like the cricut machine) but are too scared to try it should definitely stop doubting themselves and just start on that project already. Yeah, vinyl is tricky, but super worth it to learn! Whatever your creative endeavor is, lean into it, pile 2! You will not be disappointed 😊

Overall, your next glow up will involve deepening your connections with others and perusing creative endeavors. You may be faced with important decisions that require you to listen to your intuition and align with your values. It is important to take responsibility for your actions and to strive for balance and justice in your personal and professional life. This is a time of creativity, passion, and emotional depth, and you are encouraged to follow your heart and pursue your dreams with conviction. Don’t hold pack, pile 2. Let it rip! Hope you enjoyed your reading 💜

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💜 Pile Three - Ghost 👻

7 of Cups, 10 of Wands, Wheel of Fortune reversed - Knight of Cups

All right pile 3, let’s get to it! Ha, so you’re next glow up may be a confusing time for you because you’re going to have so many options and opportunities to choose from, you’re not going to be sure what direction to take! Honestly, not a bad situation to be in, but its going to be important for you to stay grounded and focus on what truly matters to you as you figure out your path. And since we’re being candidly honest here, I wholeheartedly encourage you to choose a selfish path for once.

Currently, you have a heavy burden or responsibility that you may be carrying. You may be feeling overwhelmed and overworked, but it is important to persevere and stay committed to your goals because in the end, you’re going to have so much abundance that you’re not going to know what to do with it all. I even see you giving some of your belongings or hand-me-downs to either friends, younger family members, or a charity? That’s not for all of you, but the image came to my mind. But I do see a lot of you just giving back to people in some way as appreciation to what the universe is about to bless you with. You make me want to cry, pile 3! You’re so giving 😭 remember, it important to give to yourself too, my precious babies!!

You may have experienced (or are currently experiencing) some setbacks or delays in your life. There is going to be a turning point in your life soon, but I’m seeing that you’re being resistant to this change. Let it happen, pile 3!! It is important to stay flexible and adaptable during this time. Trust me when I say this is going to be a welcomed change for you, you just have to go with the flow and **ALLOW** it to happen. The responsibility doesn’t always have to fall on your shoulders, allow others to shoulder some of the weight. Honestly, the people in your life want you to give up the load and help you but they just don’t know how to tell you that. You do so much for them, allow them to do the same for you. Once you give up some of your responsibility to others, you will see so, so, SO many doors open up for you that you weren’t able to go through previously because you had so many unnecessary burdens under your belt. The success of your next glow up revolves around how you handle your relationships. Not just with those around you, but also with your relationship with yourself.

You’re a person of creativity, passion, and emotional depth, but you’ve been stifling the part of you for too long. It’s time to lay down your load and start focusing on that part of you again. Save your burdens for another day, they’re not going anywhere whether you deal with them now or later. If you try to tackle them now, it will be a slow and frustrating process. So allow yourself this moment to refresh yourself and then tackle those burdens with a new state of mind. Spirit encourages you to follow your heart and pursue your passions with enthusiasm and conviction. Stop using your responsibilities as an excuse to stifle your creativity. Your creativity is just as much apart of you as you feel your responsibilities are… so don’t ignore it. If anything, lean into it. Then you’ll emerge from your cocoon refreshed, unburdened, and full of inspiration and possibilities.

Overall, your next glow up will involve making important decisions and staying focused on your creative goals despite feeling overwhelmed or burdened by day to day life. It is important to stay grounded and focused on what truly matters to you, even when faced with many options or opportunities that may seem confusing at this time. You may experience setbacks or delays before your next glow up, but it is important to stay flexible and adaptable and allow these changes to happen. This is a time of creativity, passion, and emotional depth, and you are encouraged to follow your heart and pursue your dreams wholeheartedly and with enthusiasm. I hope you enjoyed your reading, pile 3! 🥰

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All rights reserved to thestitchywitchy

Thank you for participating in this pick a card reading 😊 if you liked this reading and would like to dive in further, please DM me for a $7.77 extended reading 💞

[sheyfu]

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ MULTI!BLUE LOCK [separate]

🪭 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿; 🎐𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍; 🗡️ 𝗀𝗈𝗋𝖾; 🎆 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗒;🎀 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋; 🎏 𝗀𝗇!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

HEADCANNONS:

𐙚 'can i call you rose? 🌹' 🪭🎏

𐙚 'think before you kiss' 🪭🎆🎏

𐙚 'a love like yours' 🪭🎏

SERIES:

𐙚 [SMAU SERIES] 'four years and more' 🪭🎆🎀 in the works

CHAT/SOCMED AUS:

𐙚 'babe! i saw a hottie on the field 🙏🙏' 🪭🎆🎏

𐙚 'happy birthday to my lost love 🎂' 🎐🎏

𐙚 'chased clout for a bag 😓😓' 🪭🎆🎀

𐙚 'mr. fast hands' 🪭🎏

𐙚 'surname? that IS your name, sir 🤨🤨' 🪭🎆🎏

pt. 2! 🪭🎆🎀

𐙚 'boothill kin moment 😴😴' 🪭🎆🎏

𐙚 'i did a thing, love 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️' 🪭🎆🎀

𐙚 'thinkin' thoughts' 🪭🎀

𐙚 'hypothetical inquiry 🤓☝️' 🪭🎆🎏

𐙚 'willy-nilly and boyfriend' 🪭🎆🎀

part two

𐙚 'i can take him (out)' 🪭🎆🎀 [july 10th, 4:50 am utc+8]

𐙚 'BNC (bonita and controversial)' 🪭🎆🎀 [july 12th, 6:00 am utc+8]

[rukia-kuchiki-divided]

Smash or Pass + Ichigo

Smash or Pass | Accepting

"Smash..."

[kidukami]

☾┅ about me ┅ ☽

hi, call me mika! i'm 21+ and i go by they/them pronouns. i'm a se asian writer + aspiring literary translator based in the uk. this post is essentially a writeblr reintroduction as i am starting anew in the community with this blog, and i'm really excited to share my wips and connect with all you lovely writers out there! i'm also tag and/or interaction friendly (although my reply speed is... not the best especially for tag/ask games, but i'm trying!), so please don't be afraid to say hi ♡

☾┅ writing interests ┅ ☽

important note: my works may contain mature and potentially triggering topics. viewer discretion is advised.

╳ i'm mainly a prose fiction writer, although i may dabble in scriptwriting and poetry at times. ╳ genres: speculative fiction, historical fiction, thriller, literary fiction. ╳ themes: sociopolitical commentary, satire, dark comedy, angst/tragedy, tragicomedy, morally grey characters, queer romance. ╳ open to reading all genre and themes! you're more than welcome to reblog this with your wips or tag me in them, whether or not they feature any of the above. the above lists are not exhaustive because to this day i still don't know how my writing brain works. ╳ i take plenty of writing-related requests (beta/proofreading, critique, collabs, translation work, etc.)! please refer to my carrd for more info, or contact me directly for inquiries.

☾┅ main wips ┅ ☽

will o' the wisp :: adult sci-fi/thriller novel. ╳ award-winning talk show host and journalist noe crane is constantly treading a tightrope as he assumes his secret vigilante identity behind closed doors, but things get worse when his past comes back to haunt him. ╳ features: tragicomedy, morally grey characters, lgbt+ characters, complex relationships, modern setting, superpowers, conspiracies ╳ wip intro here!

the duña duology :: adult weird fiction duology. ╳ a troubled man in his 30s attempts to escape from his past and seeks refuge in a run-down inn, only to find himself caught up in a dangerous conspiracy against the world. ╳ features: adult (30+) characters, unlikeable protagonist, multiple universes, high concept, complex worldbuilding, retrofuturism, found family, conspiracies, aliens (?) wip intro coming soon! message if you want to be tagged.

a history of the tenshima gang feud (working title) :: new adult sci-fi/romance novel. ╳ when a national museum tour guide somehow travels back to the city's deadliest era in history as one of its disgraced figures, he will soon find that his beloved city isn't what it claims itself to be. ╳ features: time travel, alternate future, fictional setting, criminal underworld, ensemble cast, sociopolitical commentary, morally grey characters, lgbt+ characters, love triangle, lovers to enemies, friends to lovers, mcd, tragedy wip intro coming soon! message if you want to be tagged.

lilium carnage :: historical steampunk visual novel (collab with @nana7esque) ╳ four characters on two sides of the same coin. each of them are determined to deliver their own justice in the corrupted land of navona, even at the cost of their own lives, but little do they know that there will always be a bigger price to pay. ╳ features: alternate history, fictional setting, choice-based story, multiple endings, morally grey characters, lgbt+ characters, tragedy, enemies to lovers, complex chara dynamics wip intro coming soon! message if you want to be tagged.

☾┅ side wips ┅ ☽

shelved wips, wip ideas i have yet to develop, etc.

╳ by the kiss of the sleeping night :: thriller/romance webtoon collab with @nana7esque ╳ retelling of the nyi roro kidul myth ╳ modern setting character-driven script with each characters being an allegory to the seven deadly sins

feel free to interact with this post especially if you're also a writeblr! ♡

[aemonds-little-belle]

Modern!Sugar Daddy!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Plus Sixe!Sugar Baby!OC! Maysie Farrin

Chapter One - The Ad

Maysie Farrin

King’s Landing was the hub of all of Westeros. People came from far and wide to make it big on the Street of Coin or within the confines of The Red Keep’s business district. Travel agencies and shipping conglomerates were created for those who wished to get fine jewels from the Street of Shine or garment from the Street of Silk. 

To Maysie Farrin, King's Landing was the place she thought her life would begin. But instead of flourishing far from home she sank to the ground quickly. But instead of leaving she found a small beat up apartment in Flea Bottom, and a job on the edge of The Red Keep that payed her under the table, and sometimes not at all. 

She liked to think Flea Bottom wasn’t all that bad. Sure it was the crime capital of the city and the roads were littered with trash, but there was a sense of community that she hadn’t found anywhere else. Even if the tone of the community was often hostile, it was still something. 

Instead of gossiping behind each other's back, or ignoring issues, Flea Bottom residents came together to post their feelings on bulletin boards. Apartment buildings had them, grocery stores, parks, and even the rundown hospital all had a cork board by the entrance ready for notes of complaints or pleas to be posted. 

For someone as nosey as Maysie it was a dream, drama, gossip, secrets, and feuds were posted for anyone to see. Everyday before she headed out to work she took a few minutes to read over her apartment building’s notes. 

On Tuesdays a new doodle would appear, and on Wednesdays two men from the third floor would flirt through notes, though Maysie hadn’t figured out if they had ever met to talk in person. Everyday though, there were at least three notes from Miss Falker complaining about how loud everyone is, and Mr Mollen updated the board daily on the search for his lost cat. 

Sometimes an Ad for a store or website would be posted, tear off discount codes always used up within the first few days. This time though, on a normal boring Friday, an Ad stood out to Maysie. The paper printed black with white words, showing just how ‘fancy’ whoever posted it was. She expected it to be for some new tailor in the city hoping to broaden their clientele, or maybe an Ad for a new high end strip club. 

‘Looking for a Sugar Baby.’ It read, forcing Maysie to take a step closer. ‘Needed - 10-20 hours of availability during the week, flexible weekend availability, basic understanding of etiquette. Provided - Flexible schedule, frequent gifts/bonuses, competitive pay.’ It was printed in a pretty font, like the ask wasn’t something so risque. 

Beneath everything was ‘Serious inquiries only’ and a few tabs filled with a phone number. Maysie paused as she took it all in. 

Sugar Baby’s weren’t something she was familiar with per say. Vysessa, a previous co-worker, had left her job after becoming one, saying it paid enough to live comfortably without working at the coffee shop. It had intrigued Maysie, the idea of getting paid to hang out with someone and get spoiled was a fun thing to dream about, but now the silly scenario she had allowed herself was looking like a real life possibility.

“For Fucks sake girl, move.” A voice behind her urgently yelled. 

Without thinking too much about it Maysie grabbed a tab and ran out the front door, stuffing the small piece of paper in her only coat pocket without a hole. The fall wind surrounded her as she walked to her bus stop, an odd feeling settling over her as she began to think about all the possibilities the small paper held. 

✩ . ☽ . ☼ . ☾ . ✩

“You’re late!” The dreaded voice of Maysie’s boss welcomed her the moment she stepped inside the coffee shop. “I’m docking you four gold, if you’re late again you’re fired.” He grumbled, sat at his desk, head in the newspaper. Why he came in so early never made much sense to Maysie, both her and Eyla had keys and knew how to set up. Yet he still sat in the back office until noon every day. 

Maysie just nodded at the man’s words, she knew arguing would cause more gold to be taken off her pay, if he remembered to pay her this month at all. Rushing from the back to the front counter Maysie tied her apron around her waist, the dark brown fabric worn and dusted with sugar. 

“Crap!” Maysie whispered as she hit her hip on the small bit of counter that jutted out into the doorway. “I hate this place.” She mumbled to Eyla, the shorter woman busying herself with refilling cups. 

“You hate this place?” Eyla turned around, her auburn bob swishing as she moved. “I’ve been stuck with the devil, alone, for ten minutes!” She fake yelled, a laugh puffing past her lips as she finished talking. 

“He’s not the devil.” Maysie laughed back, her hands busy with starting up all the coffee machines. “Just one of the devil’s bitches.” She whispered, Eyla and her both breaking out into a fit of giggles as they kept up their morning routine. 

“So, what made you late?” Eyla asked. “You’re never late.” Her blue doe eyes searching Maysie’s. 

“I got distracted at the bulletin board.” 

“Ugh, I wish my building had one of those!” Eyla pouted, though Maysie knew Eyla wouldn’t last a day in Flea Bottom. She was too nice, too kind, too trusting. “What was so interesting it made you late?” She asked, but before Maysie could answer she cut in again. “Wait did Mr Mollen find his cat?” 

“Eyla, I don’t think he’ll ever find his cat.” Maysie said solemnly, the image of Rusty taking a nap on her window sill years ago flashing by. ‘I miss him.’ “No, it was an Ad.” 

“For what?” 

“Um.” Maysie took a second to think about her answer, wondering if it was best to keep the Ad to herself. But Eyla was the closest thing she had to a best friend, and she needed someone else's opinion. “It was for a Su..r Ba.y.” She struggled with the words. 

“A what?” Eyla laughed, walking towards the front door to unlock it and flip the sign to ‘Open’. 

“A Sugar…” She couldn’t do it. “A Sugar, it, it’s like Vysessa, remember her?” 

“I’m sorry.” Eyla’s words laced with humour as she paused to stare at Maysie. “Are you trying to tell me you got distracted by an Ad for a Sugar Baby?” Maysie was pretty sure she still hadn’t blinked. 

“Um, yes?” Maysie winced. “But I’m not even sure the Ad is serious, and even if it is I’m not fit to be a Sug.r B.by.” She rambled, moving to stand behind the cash register to greet the first customer. 

“Oh shut up!” Eyla laughed, scooching to lean on the counter beside Maysie. “Anyone would want your cute ass on their arm at fancy events, and you’re very fun to be around.” She smiled. “Maybe work on being able to say 'Sugar Baby’ though.” She smiled, patting her on the back before walking off to get started on the first order. 

“You really think I should call?” Maysie asked, worry lacing her words. 

“Yes, really!” Eyla tried her best to hype her up. “Take a few copper coins from the tip jar on your break and call.” She rattled the small jar. “Tell him you’ll meet with him here, and I’ll make sure to work an extra hour or two so we can be sure you’re not in danger.” Eyla’s smile was genuine, and hopeful. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay!” 

Even if Maysie was apprehensive about the whole thing, and a hundred percent sure she wasn’t the kind of woman this guy was looking for, she vowed to call during her break. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

[multistanisms]

Soft Notes & Gentle Shades | Shadowhunters

FANDOM: Shadowhunters

PAIRING: Alec Lightwood x Magnus Bane

WORD COUNT: 1246

RATING: PG-13

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS: N/A

SUMMARY: Living together has brought some complicated feelings for young artist Magnus and vocal prodigy Alec. The moments where they can sneak loving looks are some of the most treasured.

☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑ ☼ ☽ ☆ ⁑

Being roommates with a music major wasn’t as terrifying as Magnus had originally suspected. Alec’s preferred instrument was an acoustic guitar, thank Nyx, and more often than not, Magnus found himself listening quietly to the lilt of Alec’s voice as he practiced the assigned music or worked on covers for his hobby posting covers on youtube. Sometimes he would just sit and watch, enjoying the way the slightly younger male got into the music. It was beautiful and inspiring. Magnus would never forget the first time he picked up a charcoal pencil and began rough sketching Alec leaning back on their couch, fingers strumming as he taught himself “Thinking Out Loud”. Drawing Alec was something Magnus did to try and keep his feelings for his roommate and friend in check. Today had been rough, professor Fairchild critiquing works meant to be reminiscent of Van Gogh and only a handful of his classmates got a decent amount of praise. Magnus himself had gotten a fair bit of it, but he hadn’t been satisfied with his work, and he had admitted as such. Professor Fairchild - his favorite of the art teachers he’d had - had smiled as she patted his shoulder and explained that it was okay to not like every work he created.

“Sometimes things didn’t fit our usual style, Magnus. It’s okay to not feel complete when we try something new for the first time.”

Magnus had smiled and offered to let her keep his painting, since he didn’t feel he would do anything with it. The lovely woman had agreed and before he’d left, he had helped her hang it next to the vast window near her desk - the forest creek beautiful, but to Magnus not complete. So he’d walked back to the dorm room and gone to put his things in his room, waving at Alec as he passed the other on the couch, smiling back when the blue eyed man smiled and waved as he held his guitar. He set his bag in his room and grabbed his homework, going to the other couch and opening his textbook to read about the Rococo period with Alec's voice in the background. After finishing the needed chapter and filling several pages in his notebook with notes for the next day, he stopped to get a snack from the kitchen, pausing as he actually began listening to the song Alec was singing. Why was his roommate so damn beautiful? It should be illegal and to top it off, Alec was so talented it was unreal. Magnus was in awe as he watched Alec, the other so lost in the music that he didn’t notice Magnus staring for a long moment. Dark eyes closed and Magnus had to shake himself as he moved back to his spot, pulling his sketchbook from the pile of stuff on the coffee table between them, pulling out one of his finer pencils and glancing up as he began to draw his roommate.

Alec wasn’t sure how to respond when he finished the practice of the cover he was working on to find Magnus drawing on a sketchpad. “Mags?” The nickname pulled Magnus from whatever he’d been working on, and he smiled, dark eyes so loving Alec melted inside. Why was Magnus always so perfect? But after a moment he figured he should say something, so he opened his mouth. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I just...I heard you singing and it just kind of...sparked something. I needed to draw it.” Magnus replied, eyes going back to the page and smudging something the lightest bit.

“What is it?”

The artist shrugged a little. “Nothing major. Just a doodle, really.” he replied, waiting a moment with his lip caught between his teeth. “Will you sing again for me, Alexander?” The inquiry came with a smile and Alec forgot completely that he hadn’t been singing for Magnus, or even to his roommate. But he nodded and moved to make sure his guitar was in tune again, letting the song flow from him as he played.

“Pick up the pen, put it on the paper, Write on my skin, bring me to life. Can’t start again, there ain’t no eraser, All of my flaws, you got them so right.”

He didn’t notice as Magnus twirled his fingers to rotate the pencil before the other went back to work, Magnus shading and drawing without looking.

“Everything is blank until you’ve drawn me. Touching on my body like you know me. Write on me, color outside the lines. Love the way you tear me up, baby take your time. Write on me, give me some wings I’ll fly. Love the way you tear me up, I’ll never change my mind.”

Magnus didn’t need to look up to get the details right. He’d been drawing Alec for almost two years, after all. But it all came to life as he brought the image to life, drawn in by the music. The faintest smile curving Alec’s lips as he sang, the easy way slender fingers moved along the neck of the guitar, even the way the light filtered through raven hair. Magnus smiled as he filled in places and left others empty, the image perfect as he set the pencil down and closed the book, getting up to wash the pencil residue from his hands. “Should I give you some time to film so you can post?” he asked, looking over at Alec from the little kitchen island as he washed his hands off and dried them.

Alec looked up and smiled. “No, I’m not posting this week. The state contest is this weekend, I won’t have the time to edit. Besides, it’s not quite where I want it to be.” he answered, looking up as he put his guitar away. “How’d the critique go?”

“Good, I just didn’t feel like my piece was complete. Professor Fairchild has it in her room now.” he replied, smiling. “She loved that I went with the nature aspect. Most everyone went with self portrait style.”

“I don’t see why you didn’t do the self portrait.”

“I’m not good at drawing myself, Alexander.” Magnus replied, bringing a soda from the fridge over and handing it to Alec. “Are you nervous about the competition?”

“Not as worried as I was. We finally got results, and I was second chair.” came the reply as Alec popped the cap from the soda bottle and took a drink. “I mean, yeah, I’m still practicing, but I’m not as super worried about it like I was last week.”

“You’ll be fine, Alexander. One more patch and trophy, right?” Magnus teased, not missing the blush on Alec’s cheeks as the other bit his lower lip.

“I’m glad you don’t put much emphasis on my singing. That’s all some people see.”

Magnus arched a brow from where he had situated with another textbook. “Alexander, there is so much more to you than people believe. Maybe it’s because I have such a close relationship with you day to day, but I know there’s more to you than that angel’s voice of yours.” He gave an encouraging smile and Alec smiled back and when he looked back to his book, Alec moved to pick up his own textbook and the two fell into comfortable silence. Magnus didn’t comment on the fair blush painted along Alec’s face, and Alec didn’t mention the way Magnus’ eyes had lit as he’d said the words ‘close relationship’.

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